


A Close Shave

by PinkPaperStars



Category: RWBY
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Injury, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, Murderous Thoughts, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Unhappy Ending, Violent Thoughts, unhappy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:40:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24881719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkPaperStars/pseuds/PinkPaperStars
Summary: Arthur gives James a shave, and thinks about their relationship.Does he still love him? Or does he want to be free of him?
Relationships: James Ironwood/Arthur Watts
Kudos: 8





	A Close Shave

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the big old Trigger warning, Arthur thinks about murdering James.
> 
> One day I'll write something sweet and nice for James and Arthur. Not today apparently.

“Can you give a shave?”

Arthur looked up from the dishes in the sink. His hands were dry and cracked. He was tired from a long day in the medical ward, patching up injured soldiers. He had to deliver hard news to several of his patients. Arthur rotated through several surgeries, scrubbing his hands and arms. Sanitizing his hands, changing latex gloves more times that he could count. 

He was tired. And he’d had a long day. And he had the decency to leave his work at home. Because they had agreed that work would stay in their respective offices. But James failed to keep his promise. And kept bringing his work home. The implication was that James’ work was more important than his. 

Even though Arthur was the one to put James soldiers back together again. 

“Please? You do such a better job of it,” 

His hands were dry and cracked. Wet and covered in soap. It made his hands itch and and the skin felt dry and too tight. Scrubbed, sanitized, and scrubbed again, to clean the blood of soldiers off of them. His hands were valuable tools, priceless. Precise and skilled tools. His hands did things that others couldn’t. 

And at home, he used them to cook dinner, do dishes, and shave his husband's face. 

He felt like a house husband. Like this was some traditional marriage, whose job it was to take care of his dear James, to care for his every need and whim. To be his brilliant trophy to show off to others. 

As if he hadn’t had to change out of bloodied scrubs several times that day. Like he hadn’t had to throw away a pair of blood soaked shoes that evening before coming home. 

“I’ve had a long day,” 

Arthur looked down at the dishes in the sink, washing each other carefully, rinsing it, and putting it in the draining board. He didn’t think about throwing one of the plates at James head. About yelling at him, screaming at him that Arthur had had a long day too. And that he wanted to relax. And take time to breathe before he had to go back to work tomorrow and fix more broken soldiers. 

But he didn’t want to fight.

Or to listen to James ask again, because his metal hand didn’t let his shave close enough. And it was his dominant hand. After years of getting pampered and shaved by Arthur, since his accident, James liked getting his face shaved by Arthur. He should have stepped back and let the other do it himself once he got used to his hand. But he was young and in love. 

And now it was something Arthur hated. Because it felt like something that was expected of Arthur. That he had to do it for James, whenever he requested it. 

And he resented it. 

“After I finish the dishes,” Arthur replied, after unclenching his jaw and relaxing for a moment. For long enough to reply without sounding like he wanted to strangle his husband. 

“Thank you,” 

And that was it. It was the end of the conversation. Arthur continued to wash the dishes, and James continued to read his documents. 

And the clock on the wall ticked away, as they worked in silence. Arthur still feeling less like an equal in his relationship than his husband. Maybe it was his own insecurity, and it was nothing like that. But he had given, and given, and it felt like James wasn’t giving him anything in return. 

Maybe he was just stressed out. 

Maybe he just needed a vacation. 

Maybe he needed a divorce. 

But when he finished washing the dishes, he drained the water and washed the soap down the drain. He dried his hands off, before walking across the kitchen. He set his hands on James’ shoulders. 

“Ready?” 

Arthur looked up and smiled at him.

“Yeah, thanks for doing this. You just do such a clean job of it,” 

Of course he did. His hands were steadfast and steady hands. From years and years of practice. He needed steady hands and a calm demeanor. Giving James a close shave was the easiest thing his hands could do. 

They walked through the hallway, to the bedroom. James stopped to take his jacket off as Arthur walked into the bathroom. He warmed a towel in the sink and got the razor and shaving cream out and ready. 

He sharpened the razor.

He ran the blade of the straight razor against the sharpening stone. It only took a few swipes, before the blade was ready for use. 

“Ready?”

Arthur looked up from his hands, to James standing in the doorway of the bathroom. He had changed from his uniform, into a tee shirt and a pair of sweats. Arthur nodded, letting the other slide the stool into the bathroom, to make it easier for Arthur to move around James as he worked. 

James took his seat, and Arthur took the towel from the sink. James closed his eyes as the damp, hot towel was draped over his lower face and neck. A hand reached out and touched his hip and Arthur reached for the shaving cream. 

It was an intimate touch, one that Arthur had to stop from slapping away. 

He didn’t want to be touched intimately, he didn’t want the other’s hands gently holding his hip. He wanted to feel equal to his husband and in his relationship.

“Mhm. I love when you do this,” 

Arthur took the towel off, and applied the shaving cream to the other’s face and neck. James leaned his head back, and kept his eyes closed. This was intimate, this was love, this was vulnerability. 

Here he was, standing in front of James and looking at the other. 

Open and vulnerable. In a way that James wasn’t with anyone else. That was something special to them. 

Arthur picked up the razor, and held it in his hand. 

He had James at his mercy. 

He could just take the blade, and slash it across the other’s throat. 

Arthur swallowed hard, not entirely sure where the dark thought came from. Why it crossed his mind while standing in front of his husband.

It would be easy. James wouldn’t expect it. It would take him a mere moment, and James would bleed out in moments. Cutting the carotid artery in the other’s neck would be easy when it was on display like this. 

Would he just stand there, and watch the other bleed out? Gasping for air and grabbing at Arthur for help. Help he could give, his hands were capable of. Would he be horrified, watching the others in pain and try to save his life? 

Would he be arrested, standing in his bathroom, James’ blood on the floor and in his shoes. 

He would have to throw his shoes again. 

Would this free him? From how trapped he felt?

Free him like it freed his father?

Was he like his father?

No, his father had been careful and calculated. His father had never been caught. Yes people had suspected that the first Dr. Watts had killed his wife, but no one could prove it. If he was to murder his husband, his father would be disappointed that he’d made such a mess. That he should have planned more carefully. 

Maybe the murderous apple didn’t fall from the murderous family tree. 

Arthur lifted the razor, and swallowed the intrusive thoughts. The thoughts of killing his husband in their bathroom, the thoughts of blood on the floor, his clothes, and in his shoes. The thoughts of James gasping for air and grasping for his clothes. 

And he shaved his husband. With the precision and practice of steady hands. Shaving away the thick hairs and cream that protected James’ skin and guided his blade. It took several strokes, careful not to nick the other’s skin or leave hair behind. 

It didn’t take him long to give James a shave. And when he was done, he put the warm towel back on James face. He cleaned the blade off and put it away. James grabbed his hips once the blade was put down and pulled his in between his legs. Arthur took the towel off the other’s face.

“Are you okay?” 

His blue eyes and freshly shaved face looked up at him. 

Was he okay? He resented his husband, and his relationship. He had entertained the idea of murdering his husband in his bathroom. His throat felt tight and dry. 

“It’s was a hard day,” 

Arthur blinked a bit, as James wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him in. He didn’t know if he wanted to push James off or let him hold him. 

“I’m sorry, anything I can do to help?” 

“I think I just need to sleep it off,” 

James let him go, before standing up. He touched Arthur’s face and kissed him softly. 

“I’ll clean up. Why don’t you go get ready for bed?” 

Arthur nodded lightly, before extracting himself from the other’s arms. A place he’d spent so much time over the last several years. A place he had once loved felt like a place he had wanted to escape from. Arthur left the other in the bathroom, to change once again. Into a pair of sweats and a shirt. 

He crawled into their shared bed. As much as he wanted to have distance from James for some time, James would come looking for him in the guest room if he disappeared. When he was worried, James had a tendency to crowd someone, instead of giving them space. 

A few minutes later James crawled into the bed behind him, and wrapped an arm around him. James kissed his neck as he turned off the lamp. 

“I love you,” 

Arthur would lay awake, wondering if he still loved James as well.


End file.
